


Cullen Appreciation Week

by KieraRutherford



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Cullen Appreciation Week entries, Cullen focused, F/M, Family man Cullen, Fluff, Friends of Cullen, Modern au Cullen, Notes at beginning of each piece, Post game Cullen, Smut, Templar Cullen, commander cullen - Freeform, cullen rutherford - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-23 20:16:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 14,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11997183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KieraRutherford/pseuds/KieraRutherford
Summary: All my pieces for Cullen Appreciation Week. Some angsty, fluff and smut. Enjoy!





	1. Saying Goodbye

Cullen held Mia’s hand as she helped sling the small pack of his clothes over his shoulder, “do not forget to write. I shall worry for you night and day.” She planted a soft kiss upon his forehead before embracing him tightly. Looking over at his mother and father he watched his mother wipe at her face with a lace trimmed handkerchief. Mia followed his line of sight and sighed, “mother, he is not dying! We shall hear from him often and he will be allowed to visit. Please, do not cry so.”  
Cullen chuckled. His sister was always a powerful and fiery young girl and even with the moment being sullen she tried to find a way to keep everyone afloat. He would miss her. Grinning he gripped at his sack, “mom, dad, this is what I want. I want to protect people.”  
“I know pup,” his dad smiled holding his mother close, “know that I am proud of you. Your mother is proud of you. You,” his words choked up in his throat as he struggled to maintain the focus he wanted to.  
“Dad, I know.” Cullen’s smile was bright, his curly mop of hair bounced as he chuckled, rushing forward to give both of his parents a final embrace.  
“Ma’am, Ser,” a stern voice bellowed from behind Cullen. Turning to look his eye fell upon two templars in pristine, polished full plate. Their faces emotionless as one took a step forward, “I am Ser Dederick, your son is prepared?”  
Cullen nearly jumped with joy, “I am Ser, I am!”  
The younger templar behind chuckled warmly as he watched the young boy nearly skip towards them.  
“You understand your commitment to the Chantry, to the Order, to this life?” he knelt to Cullen’s level, resting his forearms upon his knee, “you will be taught, educated before trained for combat. Are you prepared for such hardship, young Ser?”  
Nearly snapping to attention, he stood firmly before the templar, “yes Ser, I am ready to learn Ser!”  
Nodding his approval, he rose and ushered Cullen towards the other templar, “I shall be a moment, then we can leave.”  
Cullen watched at the templar spoke to his family, watched his parents’ reaction. Scanning over the group he became aware of Mia. She was holding his youngest sister Rosalie in her arms, bouncing the babe. Not breaking eye contact she watched him till the moment her mother pulled her way. Till the moment the templars pulled him along. Heading to the Chantry, with the other boys and girls. Her eyes, golden and fiery didn’t leave his. Rubbing the small coin his brother Bronson gave him, he drew in a deep breath. Committing himself to this life choice, to saving people, helping people and being something more than a farm boy. Remembering the stories of the heroes in shining armor he clung tightly to the little satchel as his family disappeared from sight.


	2. In the Maker's Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being in the Order for only a short time this deal with his growth from a small boy in a budding man. Safe for work.

Three years in the Order he had delved headlong into each lesson. Trying his hardest to memorize the correct passages, even spending late nights reading ahead in the books the Revered Mother spoke of in her lessons. In two more years, he would take his vows and having started training for the templars later than most boys and girls he felt pressure from himself to keep up with the oldest members. Some being here at birth, being suckled by a wet nurse all the while being raised in the Chantry’s image. One of those elder children was Anoria. She was promised at birth and was one of the top students in each class. Her skills were razor sharp, and she was always prepared to answer any question posed to her. Many nights when he sat in the back of the library he witnessed her slip in and collect a few books before tip toeing down the hall back to her quarters.

Twice now she had bested him in the training ring. Twice he had fallen upon his rear in defeat. By no means was he angry, no far from it. He was in awe. She was fierce, her auburn locks always neatly combed back into a perfect bun at the crown of her head. Only a few, carefully selected tendrils left hanging to frame her face. Turning the page of his book, he struggled to read the words. Struggled for them to stay in him mind, instead of wandering back to her. Her porcelain skin, sharply angled jawline and apple hallowed cheeks had his head spinning. Groaning he plunked his head down upon the desk, rapping his forehead against the wood a couple times he gave up his late-night quest at advanced learning. 

Pushing his books to the top of his desk he stretched his arms over his head. Night had lighted it’s starry blanket into the heavens some time ago and now the room was quiet. He was glad to have the room to himself. Wherever Wesley had gone for the night, he cared not. It would mean he wouldn’t have to put up with the young man’s snoring. Sluffing off his tunic and leggings he climbed into his bed. Getting comfortable he breathed a sigh of relief. Tomorrow was shield work and he had been paired with Morris. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about being knocked on his rear again. Giving a quick prayer to the Maker he rolled over and closed his eyes.


	3. Temptation Flourishes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nsfw kind of a second piece to the last one.

Anoria moved her pawn two spaces forward as she crossed her legs and leaned back in the wooden chair, “I wonder how you will attempt to best me this time, Rutherford,” she sneered as she flicked a long section of auburn locks over her shoulder.

Feeling the heat paint his cheeks he tried to focus on the board. After all he had been the one to invite to her to play this evening. Wesley had been kind enough to leave them the room for the evening. He had chuckled as he elbowed Cullen in the ribs before winking and strutting out the door. The memory drifted into his mind. Mentally shaking off the image he moved to match her pawn, “I intend to win this round. If you do not cheat,” he smirked as he watched her posture change.

“Cheat? My dear Rutherford, why would I need to cheat?” Selecting her knight, she moved him out from behind the line of pawns. “I best you in nearly everything, this should be no different.”

Trying to see the move he analyzed the board. If she wasn’t going to cheat she had several moves to make. He would need to see a few more moves before he could correctly plot his appropriate response. Opting the safest route, he moved a pawn forward to back the first, “I allow you to win. That is the difference.”

Huffing she folded her arms over the loose linen tunic, “I doubt that very much. Your shield technique is near flawless but you’re are slow with your sword. You baby my efforts, that is not my mistake it is yours.” Shuffling the corner pawn forward two spaces she seemed to ease into her chair, a sense of control and comfort ebbing from her form.

“Perhaps,” he grinned countering her effort with a blocking pawn, “I am slow because I enjoy watching you win.”

This threw her off, whether he intended to or not she paused to look up at him over the board. “Cullen Rutherford are you flirting with me? I dare say you are.”

Chuckling he watched her focused lightning blue eyes on him, “perhaps I am. There are no rules against it. We take our vows in two weeks. Am I wrong, in assumptions?” 

“No, I simply didn’t believe that baby Cullen had it in him. The vestal virgin, who blushes at every glance. Or am I wrong in that as well?” finally making her move she tented her fingers and awaited his response.

Scanning the board, he couldn’t help but grin. Whether she knew it or not she was exposed and if he played his hand correctly he’d have her in six moves, “when I am in control, I feel fine.”

Licking her lips, she flicked her king over, conceding the round to him, “wonderful. You would have won in six turns, perhaps eight if I countered your third attempt. Well played Cullen. Tell me, are you so skillful in other efforts?” Slowly standing from the table she dragged her fingers along the board, swaying her hips as she approached him. A soft sigh on her lips and she straddled him in the chair, “or do you require lessons?”

Cullen had intended to flirt, intended to find out if she was interested in him but he had never in his wildest dreams even thought it might come this far. Struggling to maintain the bravado he had bluffed at he rested his hands upon her hips, struggling to keep his blurring teenage mind focused, “lessons?” he half squeaked out.  Truth be told, he had fancied several girls in their group but none made his veins burn like Anoria. She was something entirely different. He had watched her flower into a wondrous young woman. Hourglass figure, firm, tight rear and ample breasts. He had thought terrible things as he lay in his bed on many a cold, wet night. And now, here she was before him, her fingers combing through his golden curls, nails delicately tracing lines in his scalp. Setting his core ablaze. 

Chuckling, she bent forward, pressing her lips to his ear, “am I your first?” nipping his earlobe, he shuddered. “Then it will be a treat for you, and a pleasure for me.” 

Every move of her body, her fingers gracing down to the ties of his shirt sent throngs of heat to his core. Closing his eyes, he desperately wished to savour this moment. Suddenly her finger tips gripped his chin, her face pressed up against his cheek, lips ghosting his ear, “don’t close your eyes. I want to see the moment you reach your climax.” Her purring, velvet voice dripped with erotic tension as she leaned back and hauled his shirt over his head. Opening his eyes, he watched as she pulled her own shirt over her head. Lovely swaying breasts barely bound in their place with a thin strip of material. He groaned as she reached behind and with a simple flick of her wrist the fabric fluttered to the ground. For a moment, he thought then and there he was going to lose control. Lose every ounce of himself in her. 

His hands moved by instinct, reaching to grip, and roll the mounds of searing hot flesh in his palms. As his rough palms skipped over the pert tips of her breast and he keenly caught the gasp of breath come from her, “do you like this?” his own voice was thick with lust, wanting and teenage need building to a painful point. 

“Mhmm,” she purred out as she bit down upon her lip. “More,” she groaned working feverishly to undo his trousers. 

He honestly had no idea what more meant or how he was supposed to provide it. Sweeping his thumbs across the tender tips elicited a louder more desperate whine as she began rutting over him. Leaning forward he kissed her collarbone as he felt the sudden cool air of the room slap his nether regions. Her hands disappeared from his pants and she pulled back. Watching intently, his sight nearly blurred his heart pumping furiously in his chest, she hastily hauled her pants and smalls down. “Remove them, now,” she panted pointing to his trousers. Gulping he nearly jumped up as he scrambled to pull them down. Seeing her crook her finger at him towards his bed he nearly tripped, hopping out of his pants to follow her. “Lay down,” she pointed towards his pillow.

Breath hitching in his throat he climbed willingly onto the bed, laying his head upon his pillow. He twitched and shuttered as she crawled over him, straddling his hips, dipping her core down over his heated need. He half howled when she gripped him in her palm, and lowered herself down. Sinking slowly into the warmth of her core, he felt he was going to explode. “I…. you’re too much…” he gasped.

Grinning she gripped around him tightly, “not yet, Rutherford. You haven’t learned enough.” He felt the sting pull him back from the edge, keep him centered and as his vision returned he noticed the wicked grin upon her face as she kept her eyes locked on his face. When he blinked, finally several times she released him and nodded, “good boy.” 

Unsure of what she meant he tried to fumble to say something, but words held tight in his lung as she began slowly shifting her hips, her head thrown back as she took him fully in and nearly entirely out, “you’re so much thicker and longer than the others,” she groaned as she reached to the space where they joined. 

Unable to process any of what she said all he could do was hum at her words. Feeling the urge to roll his hips he began to work with her. Rolling his hips forward as she withdrew. This caused her to mewl and twitch. He hadn’t any idea if this was right, but he could tell enough that it was working for her. He delighted in the sinful gasps and debauchery that spouted from her lips as he reached up and held her tightly to him. Bucking and rolling his hips, feeling the heat of her wrap and pulse around him. She started to gasp as she held her breath, quickening her pace as she leaned over him, “Maker… I… Cull…” it was sudden and fierce as she clenched tightly around him. Pulsing waves of clenching and wet warmth trickling down as she half screamed over him. Feeling himself become harder, and the tension building he gripped her tightly, placing his feet up on the bed he thrust into her with everything he had. She clawed at the bed frame, wet skin slapping hard together echoed through the room as she cried out, over and over. It was too much, too quick, “Maker… I…” she quickly rolled off him and gripped his base. Using the slickness there she pumped furiously as he was pinned to the bed. His euphoria riding out in flowing waves. Hot, slick coating his tightly tones stomach. 

He lay a limp mess as he tried to focus on what she was doing. Calmly she strutted over to his wash basin, wet a rag and returned. Cleaning him off and herself she proceeded to collect her clothes, “you can be trained Rutherford.” Grinning she pulled on her pants, “and quite well too.”

He had no idea what to do, what to say or even to begin to say it. It wasn’t like he had imagined. No magical pangs of instant love. No burdened need to be hers and hers alone. It was incredible, mind blowing, but much to his dismay, it wasn’t love. “Thank you,” was all he could manage to say as he pulled the blankets over himself.

“Ah, a gentleman,” she chuckled tying her bra band back on, “don’t worry Rutherford. It doesn’t have to be love, it doesn’t have to mean anything other than a damn good fucking. Don’t feel sorry. You were, and are incredible.” Pulling her shirt over her head she looked herself over in the mirror before turning towards the door, “we’re here for life. Best to enjoy the moments we can. Rest well, Cullen. I shall likely best you again tomorrow.” Blowing him a kiss she shut the door behind herself.

Laying back in the bed he mulled over the words she had spoken. Here for life. Perhaps there was something freeing and wonderful about finding a tiny piece of pleasure and normalcy between the Order and their duties. Feeling sleep tug at him, he decided it would be best to write and think these things over in the morning. Curling up he closed his eyes and quickly descended into a peaceful sleep. 


	4. A Title to Bare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Commander Cullen day - Commanding being the key term I went with the idea of how did Cullen get recruited in Kirkwall. Here's my take on it.

Wiping the blood from his hands he slopped his face across his shoulder. Sweat trickled down his back as they lifted another body from the wreckage. Fighting between the mages and templars began anew on a weekly basis since the Lord Seeker recalled everyone to the White Spire. Cullen had refused to go. There was too much work to do here. So many dead, dying and the damage from the fighting was incalculable. “Send off, this area is clear. If you see any further signs of the abomination let us know. We are stretched thin enough as we are.” He wished there was more. There had to be more than cleaning up another mess. Washing his hands in the bucket of water he kicked at it. Sending the mix of water and blood leaching across the docks. 

“Perhaps there are better ways to deal with your anger?” Cassandra stepped around the puddle as she sheathed her blade. “May I have a word with you Knight-Commander?”

Looking around the crowd had begun to gather. A Seeker in the city after all that occurred. Nodding he followed her lead through the city streets and towards the Hanged Man. “I do not drink,” he grunted as he caught up with her. “There is much work to do, if there is something you wish to speak to me about, do so. If not, I have my hands full.”

Spinning on her heel she stopped dead in front of Cullen, “I do have something worthy of your time. If you would bare with me. The streets are hardly the place for this.”

Grunting he nodded and they continued their march to the tavern. Once inside she signalled something to the bar keep and walked towards the back rooms. Opening a side door, she ushered them both inside. “I did not come to waste your time Knight-Commander, I know you are busy with relief efforts.”

“Efforts that become more impossible by the day,” he slumped down into the chair. Working night and day for the last three days straight had left his body racked in pain. He was weak and if the Seeker wished to slay him there, he was at her mercy.

Waving her hand as if to sense his thought she shook her head, “I did not come here to kill you. I come to make you an offer. Divine Justinia has called mages and templars to the Conclave…”

“I had heard as much.” He sighed, rubbing at the tight knotted muscles of his neck.

“Good. Know this. I was sent here to find you. Divine Justina believes this effort will fail, and when it does she wishes to resurrect the Inquisition of old. Do you know what that means?” standing firmly in her place, her hands folded behind her back she awaited his response.

Leaning forward and bracing himself upon his knees he spat out a half-hearted laugh, “I have no idea what you intend, or why it involves me. Get to the point, Seeker. You have my attention.”

Grinning she nodded, “we need someone to command the Most Holy’s army. A general that commands the respect of the templars and the mages. You have done that here. With your efforts, your words, and your actions. I can see no one better tasked to lead her armies, and train the men.”

Sitting upright he mulled the thought over. Her eyes never.left him as he thought of all he had seen, all he was, all he had done. “I accept. On one condition.”

“Name it,” she relaxed her stance slightly, awaiting his demands.

Pulling his lyrium kit from his side pouch he flipped it onto the floor before her, “I am done with this life. I want nothing more to do with it. If I am to lead these men and women, to right the wrongs of the past, to save Thedas. I will only do so a free man myself. Do I make myself clear?”

Emotionless she kicked the box across the room, away from them. The wood splintering on contact with the wall, tiny instruments and a philter of lyrium shattered and broke, “done. Can you leave today?”

Rising from his chair he extended his hand to her, “I am yours.”

“Welcome to the Inquisition, Commander,” Cassandra grinned as she gripped his hand in a firm shake. “We leave now. Do you require anything?”

“No, there is nothing for me here.”


	5. Sharp End Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second post of Commanding Cullen day. This is my take on his time in Haven, before the Breach, before the Herald. Enjoy!

Grunting he parried the lazy thrust away with a heavy bat against the recruit, “it’s a sword in your hand, not a loaf of bread!” Smashing the man across the thigh with the flat of the blade, he shook his head. “You two, repeat the drill again!” Growling he tossed his practice blade at his awaiting lieutenant. Pacing to the head of the large group of men and women in training tunics he bellowed out, “repeat the parry/thrust drill. I want to see flawless technique before you get your supper tonight!”

“Commander,” Cassandra’s voice called out as the men groaned and the sound of wooden swords slapping together filled the small encampment. 

Acknowledging her call, he uttered a few words to his second hand and marched off to meet her, “is there something the matter Cassandra? He smiled brightly to her, despite the throbbing ache of his mind and body.

Since leaving Kirkwall now, nearly three months ago he was suffering daily. Catching himself in the mirror he tried to hide it with powders and lotions. His eyes had sunken, the skin around seemed to grey and pale. At first it was just random sweating, feeling hot in the late evening hours. Then it had turned to aches in his joints, muscles seemed to stiffen and atrophy upon waking. Now it was headaches. Throbbing, pounding, mind splitting headaches. He had confided in Cassandra his fear, his pain and his need to do this. His penance for the horrors of an unclean life before the Maker. At least, that was how he had come to feel. Seeing the depravities of Meredith, Kirkwall, Orsino. All of it left a bitter taste in his mouth. The loneliness of his suffering left unaided and him set shuffling off to Kirkwall. No one spoke to him, no one saw to his nightmares and it had taken him many nights of screaming, crying and breaking several things before he finally realized he was alone. How could anyone do that to anyone? How could the Order take such care to raise and groom these men and women only to abandon them when they truly needed someone? Gritting his teeth, he tried to focus through the pain.

“You push yourself too hard,” she sighed, patting him upon the shoulder as they did their usual rounds before retreating to the war room. Leliana and Josephine would be awaiting them to finish their reports. 

Keeping stride with her he rested his arm upon the hilt of his blade at his side, “we must be prepared. These men and women are raw. Some not even knowing which end of the sword to hold. If we are to be taken seriously, if the Inquisition is to make things right, then it requires a properly trained army. That cannot come from hope, or lax training.” Sighing he rubbed at his neck, “we have a small army as of now, but without these recruits we risk being left open. I push because they can handle it. I push because it is required.”

Smiling she agreed, “I understand. I see your point and I agree. I do not, however agree with the punishing pace you set for yourself. Your lieutenant could easily handle some of the work in your stead.”

Shaking his head as they reached the doors of the Chantry he held them open for her, “no. I took on this task and I will see it through.”

“Come now Cullen, the Conclave will begin any moment and surely the Most Holy…” her words trailed off as the earth shook beneath them. Nearly knocking them both to their knees. Bracing themselves against the wooden beams things crashed about them, people falling, screaming as the violent shaking rumbled off.

Fighting his body, and the earth beneath him he heaved at the thick door. Slamming it against the wall outside he let out a gasp, “Maker….”

Crackling in the sky above them pulsed a vibrant green gash, above where the Conclave was set to be. Cassandra stood beside him and she gripped his shoulder tightly, her own legs reduced to a jiggling mass, “Cullen… the Conclave… Most Holy!”

Before either could utter a word, a messenger came racing towards them, “ma’am, ser, the Conclave! There was an explosion, people are dead and dying! A giant rift in the sky fields demons!!!” Collapsing at their feet the messenger became a mumbling, shuttering mess. 


	6. Commanding for Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW pure smuttiness ahead. Non-descript Inquisitor so you can imagine your own or yourself hey it's all good. Enjoy!

Rubbing at his eyes the low light of the fading candles and exterior darkness strained his vision. Maker Rutherford you keep this up, and you’ll need glasses, he groaned to himself as he tugged his gloves off to work at his eyes. Grumbling he reached under his desk, searching for another large candle. Gripping a thick one he pulled it out and placed it upon his desk. Lighting it, he sighed. Perhaps it was time for bed. Discarding his armor neatly upon the training dummy he stretched, before a letter caught his attention. He had meant to deliver that letter to the war room hours ago. Not wanting to turn in for the night without completely his work he snatched it up and paced off towards the Keep. 

Bitter cold wind whipped over the bridge towards the Keep and Cullen pulled his tunic top tight across his chest. Shivering he trotted quickly across the way and ducked into the rotunda. Inside the walls of Skyhold the stone seemed to emit a warmth that was uncharacteristic of the Frostback Mountain environment. Crossing the room, he entered the main hall and seeing it barren he slowed his pace. The Inquisitor had changed the decorations in the room, something more “Fereldan,” she had said. Something to make him feel at home. Chuckling, he had to admit he did appreciate the change. It felt less stuffy, less Orlesian. Reaching the door to Josephine’s office he tugged the door open just enough to slip through. Her office was empty, the hearth’s embers long since burnt out. 

Not wishing to disturb any of Josephine’s work he quickly continued on to the war room. Moonlight made the flecks of dust dance upon the steady calm breeze passing through the two openings along the wall of the Keep exterior. Pausing at the door he was certain he had heard movement from behind it. Pressing his ear against the door he could hear the mumbling of a woman. Clenching his eyes tightly he realized who it was. The Inquisitor was going over the plans for something involving Cole. A medallion. Not wanting to bother her he knocked lightly. Hearing her startle, he sucked in a deep breath and cracked the door open, “Inquisitor? Am I interrupting?”  

“No, no, not at all,” her voice was rapid and flustered, “please come in.”

Pressing into the door he carefully breached the room. Not looking up from the letters in his hand, he quickly reached his usual spot at the table, “forgive me. I got caught up in my daily rosters and forgot to turn this missive in for you. I shan’t take up any more of your time.” Turning to leave he heard her voice call out his name. Stopping he turned back to her. She was radiant, as always. Standing before the looming stain glass windows in not but a near sheer evening gown and over cloak. Flashbacks of the prior week filled his mind. Her stretched out upon his desk, cries of his name echoing back into his ears, waking to her hands upon his bares skin. He couldn’t help but utter the low growl boiling in his chest.

“I couldn’t sleep. I… would you take me to bed?” her cheeks were flush as she played with the supple fabric of her gown. 

“Of course, Inquisitor,” he grinned. Their relationship had been like this since it started. She was submissive, calm and quiet, while he remained the lion, fierce and powerful. But she was his, and his to protect as much as he was hers to cherish. Taking her hand gentling in his, he led her down the hall and towards her room. Comfortable in their complete solitude he pulled her close to his body, rubbing his thumb over her fingers he smirked. Wrapping his arm around her waist he purred at the lack of material separating them. She had only returned from Val Royeux this morning and he had little time to see her outside of a quick, uneventful greeting at the gates. 

She turned to face him at the door, “I missed you,” smiling she leaned up on her tip toes and planted a baby soft kiss upon the tip of his nose. Cresting back down, her hand upon the door she toyed with the laces dangling down between her breasts, “did you miss me?”

Pinning her against the door he answered with his lips, crashing against her as his bare hands wandered over her form. Pressing his hips against her, she let out a heated breath feeling the throbbing between his powerful thighs. Bodies reacting on instinct she half leapt into his arms. Pushing them through the doors he carried her up the steps, as lips, tongues and teeth rasped over cheeks, necks and mouths. Driving them up the last set of steps he pulled back to ensure he hit his mark. Walking them to the foot of the bed he tossed her towards the pillows. 

Landing with a giggle she watched him pulled his shirt over his head, before removing her gown. Untying his pants, he was smirking wide as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip, drawing it in to slide his pearly white teeth over the kiss swollen skin. 

Seeing her eyes blow wide he felt powerful, a feeling he’d come to love with her. A feeling of being in complete control and he knew how best to savor it. Sliding his bottoms down, he crawled up the bed, slow arching back, hands planting with purpose as he stalked her towards the head board. Sneering as she scurried back he snatched her ankle. Hauling her back down the bed he plied her legs to give way to him. Running his hand up her calf, over her knee, dipping in and out of her thigh to tickle the tips of her hip bones he followed each motion with his lips. Tasting, nipping, sucking and kissing every inch of skin he came in contact with. Edging closer to her exposed core he hummed as his lips graced the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh. “Cullen…” her voice was ragged and wanting as he trailed closer. 

“Tell me, I want to hear you,” he purred, his hot breath barely ghosting over her. 

“I… I…” her tongue was like a lead brick in her mouth as ran up the sides of her mounds. “Cullen!” she half shrieked as he blew hot air across her sensitive nub.

“I hear my name, but not what I asked for,” he purred. Her scent enveloped him and he was fighting ever urge building inside of him. She had been back all day and had not come to visit him. Not since their first rushed greeting at the gate and he was going to make her pay her penance for it. “I haven’t seen you all day,” he growled as he nipped the inside of her thigh, hearing a high whine break her lips. “Not once. My Inquisitor seems too involved for time with her beloved.” Running his stubbled chin along her other thigh he smirked at the curse uttered under her breath, “I am sorry, my love. Did you say something?”

Panting, she clenched her fists, trying to focus her scattering mind, “I… I’m sorry.”

“That is a start,” he purred running the flat of his tongue up her once. “But does the Inquisitor know what she is sorry for?”

Cursing again she stuttered, “I’m sorry Commander for neglecting you today.”

“Mmmm,” he hummed clamping his lips over her. She nearly screamed as she thrust her fist in her mouth, her hips popping up, needing the friction he was denying her. Gloating he licked his lips before hoovering them back over her, “and how shall I punish you?” Each word he dipped his bottom lip to give a glancing touch against her.

“Maker, please Cullen, please anything!” she needed him, wanted him and he was enjoying every moment.

Diving into her core he sucked, licked and flicked his tongue across her nub. Each movement she made he watched. Running his hand up her stomach he cupped her breast. Rubbing his palm over her taut peaks, her hips rose up and her whines became more frantic. She would be undone soon. Too soon for him. Lavishing one last swirl of his tongue he pulled back. Licking his slick lips, he reared up onto his heels. With one solid pull, he dragged her down to him. Lifting her hips in his hands he sheathed himself to the hilt with one movement. She cried out, long and loud as he chuckled to himself. Rolling his hips lazily he felt the heat curling up inside. Leaning over her he captured her lips as he set a harsh pace, slamming into her core, angling her hips upwards to get in deeper. She gasped and moaned as he nipped at her neck. Each thrust forward forced her pleas to become louder, stronger as her finger nails clawed at his back. Gripping her hips, he flipped her over with one heave of his upper body. 

Pinning her to the bed he pulled her hair way from her face and leaned in, “I want you screaming for me. I want all of Skyhold to know you belong to me and me alone.” Locking his fingers in hers he began again with powerful, deep thrusts. Each one causing her body to shudder and he knew she wouldn’t, couldn’t last much longer. Bracing their locked hands against the bed he reached around her hip and plied at her. Circling her nub, with tight precise movements, hearing her cries become louder and longer as he could feel the warm wet pool between them. “Yes, give in to me. Let me hear you, feeling you.” Sweat trailing down his back, hair matting to his face he could feel her breath hitch in her chest before the sudden pulses rushed over him. Clenching down upon him, squeezing him as she screamed into her pillow. Unlacing his fingers, he leaned back, gripping her hips bruisingly tight he rutted into her several more times, as hard as he could. Skin slapping off wet skin, echoed screams and his gritted grunts filled the room. One, two, three more times before he felt himself overflow inside of her. 

Short staccato breaths burst from his chest as she continued to clench about him, milking him dry as she continued her sinful gasps, moans and whines. Slowly withdrawing from her they collectively let out a gasp. Careful to mind where he landed he flopped down beside her. Laying on his back, cooling himself he chuckled.

“What is so amusing, Commander?” she sighed leaning upon her elbow. 

“I suppose that will teach you to ignore me,” he reached over and cupped her face.

Chuckling along with him she nuzzled her nose against his, “I promise I shall never ignore you again. As long as you can promise to be so demanding again.”

“For you, always.”


	7. A Time to Ask

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post 1 on Post-Game Cullen. This is kinda my take on him preparing to ask the Inquisitor an important question. One that's bothered him for some time. Enjoy!

Clapping the ring box closed and shoving it hastily into his pocket he threw his traveling pack upon his desk. Rearranging the items inside, double checking everything he was content with the few items he would need for the Exalted Council.

The Exalted Council. Divine Victoria had staved it off for nearly a year. She had sent him letter after letter telling him it would be sooner than he cared for and yet he never expected it now. Several months back while travelling to Val Royeux with Josephine he had stopped. Made the decision.to purchase a ring. Josephine was beside herself as he asked about this stone, that metal, what colour was appropriate, all while Josephine twittered away about the wonders of such love. Several hours, and stories later he managed to select one that he felt, spoke to the Inquisitor. Her beauty, love, and how deeply he cared for her. He had tried, Maker knew how he tried. Taking her to the pond, taking her on horse back for a simple ride in the country side, and yet each time the words froze in his throat. Dinner, chess in the garden, her return from some blasted meeting. Never being able to get the words out. 

Riding upon his horse on the road to Halamshiral it was all he could think about. He knew she loved the garden’s there and honestly it would be a perfect place to propose. Fragrant, fresh flowers, white alabaster walls, gold everywhere. It would be spectacular! Set on interrupting her at some point to do so he had taken the ring. Even gone so far as to have Josephine secretly pack a white dress in her wardrobe. 

However, arriving at the Winter Palace was completely different than his plans. First Revered Mother Gisele required her. Then she had word her friends had all arrived. As he was about to give up hope he heard a barking sound from behind him. “That’s a mabari bark,” turning he was excited to see a large male mabari standing before him. His small stump of a tail wagged as he quirked his head this way and that giving Cullen a once over. “Hey boy, are you lost?” Cullen knelt to pet the dog who seemed to genuinely appreciatebthe affection. Looking around he saw no one paying any special attention to them, “ah you’re a Fereldan lost in Orlais. Can’t have that can we boy,” scratching the dog under his chin he was rewarded with a long-wet tongue across his cheek. Bursting into laughter he began playing with the pup. It was a sudden realization that hit him all at once, “you don’t have anyone do you?” the dog’s eyes glinted with sorrow as he seemed to shake his head, no. “You like me then do you?” Backing up the dog barked twice and did a happy bounce around before sitting before him once more. “Maker!”

“Cullen?” her voice came from a short distance away. Turning to the dog he watched as he sniffed the air, seemingly declaring his acceptance of the approaching voice.  “Uh… guess we shall have to sort a name in a moment. I need to do something important, no worries boy,” he patted him on the head and the beast seemed to purr under his touch.

“I see you’ve made a friend,” she chuckled as she knelt beside him. Reaching out the mabari seemed genuinely pleased to have such lavish affections bestowed upon him.

Chuckling Cullen toyed with the box in his pocket, just out of her sight, “yes. I guess he has no one. He does now,” smiling he pat the pup on the head and watched him bounce about happily letting a quick excited yip pipe in.

“Oh, Mia will love him, I’m sure.” The Inquisitor grinned, straightening up.

“I think she’ll love you both,” his cheeks tinted pink as he watched her give a questioning look. “There’s something important I need to ask.” 

“If you require time to travel you have it. You work too hard,” she tugged at her fingers trying not to touch him in front of the wandering crowds of nobles.

Chuckling he pulled the ring box out, “Marry me.”

“What?! I mean…” 

“Arf arf arf ARF,” the mabari hopped around them excitedly, circling them closer together before planting himself upon his rear at their feet.

Rubbing his neck Cullen sighed, “I had a plan, and well there wasn’t a dog but,” shaking his head he steadied himself, “will you marry me?”

Unable to say anything at the beginning she simply nodded as tears welled up in her eyes.


	8. A Farewell to Arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inquisitor Diana Trevelyan has lost her arm, and sunk into a deep feeling of anger and depression. Cullen manages to find the right words, at just the right time to help her move on with her life.

Tossing the brush across the room Diana Trevelyan let out a long scream of frustration, followed promptly by a string of curse words that would have turned a Kirkwall port worker into a red blister. Clenching her eyes tightly she flexed the fingers on her remaining hand. It had only been six short weeks since Solas removed her arm, just below the elbow. Six weeks of frustration and misery. Her sword and shield lifestyle was over. Her only saving grace was the anchor had been on her left hand, apposed to her dominated right. She could still use a blade and Maker there were days she was tempted.

Despite the world she had managed to save there was always bandits, highwaymen and thugs needing a boot in the mouth and with her foul mood she had envisioned doing so. Dagna was busily researching this and that to see about maybe creating something to give her some use of the limb but each attempted had ended in bitter tears. A simple task, such as dressing or brushing her hair required another hand. Cullen had silently and subtly aided without her words but today he was called away to a withdrawing templar at their clinic. One of the few graces Divine Victoria granted them. 

“Diana,” he called through the small house, “are you alright?” his foot steps were heavy as he rushed through the house to get to her. Dropping to his knees beside her, he held her face in his hands, “love, please don’t cry love.”

Sniffling she chuckled, “I am useless. I cannot even comb my hair right.” 

Running his fingers through her fiery hair he kissed her cheek, “you are perfect. Strong and fierce, gentle and wise. There is nothing you cannot handle, nothing you cannot defeat.”

Smiling she kissed him back, pressing her adoration of his tenderness into her motions. Holding his hand in hers she nodded, “just a bad day, I’ll be alright.”

Helping her finish dressing and tying her hair back for her, he walked her downstairs, “come, let me take you to the clinic. A walk, some fresh air, and seeing the good we do will help.”

Chuckling brightly, she nodded, “I suppose there is always someone worse off than I.”

“Diana,” he half scolded her. With all she had been through, she still joked. Even if they were ghastly, they helped her.

“I know, I know. Play nice,” she wrapped her arm in his and let him waltz her out of the house and take her the ten-minute walk to the clinic. Entering the clinic doors, it was quiet. Hushed prayers echoing down the corridors, “Cullen what…”

“Shhh, you need to hear this part,” he pressed his finger to his lips. As they stood in the hall the walls echoed back the prayers. A dozen templars, all withdrawing from lyrium were praying together. Their words, lifted up to the rafters and down through the halls. Cullen smiled as their words grew to a crescendo before falling silent. “After all they have endured, all they have suffered, they are still thankful to the Maker for this day. For their life and for this chance to start again. Some men have crippling pain, nightmares and fight panicking moments. Yet they all take a moment to be thankful for this day.” Turning to her he laid a tender kiss upon her lips, “I wanted you to hear that even in these men’s darkest moments, they have found peace. You may not be whole,” he touched the hanging shirt sleeve, “but you have this moment. And I for one, am more than thankful to the Maker that he gave me this moment with you.”

Tears welled up tightly in her eyes and she gasped for breath. Fighting the flood of emotions, she nodded to him, “thank you,” the only words she was able to get out before he wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly to his chest.

“I love you, and no matter what is to come, that will never change.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to put out there, the title is a play on words. A Farewell to Arms, wasn't about her losing the arm per say. It was about her saying farewell to the way she used to fight, what she used to be. And instead embrace what she could be. It's her redemption. But her redemption wouldn't have happened without Cullen. Thank you!


	9. Tending the Hearth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW- a follow-up to the last piece "A Farewell to Arms"

It had been a few weeks since their chat in the clinic and he could see she was feeling more herself as the days flew by. He had watched her learn to use her foot to button her shirts, to tie her pants. Her flexibility was astounding. Bathing was still an interesting ritual that had become less focused on cleanliness and more returning to her former, feisty self. He was set to make breakfast when she asked him to fill the tub for her. But her eyes read less of the need to scrub, and after being patient with her for so long, he couldn’t deny that he wished beyond hope, the glint in her eyes meant what he thought. 

Rushing about he filled their oversized tub. A parting gift from Josephine, a half man tall, several men wide tub, that sat in a room dedicated to it alone due to is monstrous size. As he poured the last steaming bucket of water into the tub he stood up to see her coming down the hall. He nearly dropped the bucket when he realized she was completely nude. Since losing her arm she had taken to wearing his shirts when she disappeared into the room to take a bath. Only calling him once she was submerged into the bubble filled tub. Here she was, swaying her hips as she slowly paced towards him, “join me?” she purred as she walked past him. Bending at her waist, exposing her curvaceous backside he nearly finished in his trousers. With the clinic, her needs and trying to follow up on Solas he had neglected himself. Painfully so as the twitching bulge in his pants alerted him. “Uh, oh,” he stuttered out, hastily stripping his clothing, not nearly quick enough. 

Slipping into the hot bath he sighed. Maker how the water touched his soul, it felt so wonderful. In his stumblings to undress she had already entered the tub and now she was atop of him. He let out a short gasp as her hand eased him inside of her. “Are you…. Diana?” 

“Hush,” she pulled her wet hand to pop her finger upon his lips. Rising and lowering herself onto him his vision blurred. She held him tightly inside of her, each stroke of her rising and falling was pure bliss, “I missed you,” he groaned as he squeezed her rear under the water.

“Touch me,” she purred into his ear, nipping his lobe as she braced herself against the edge of the tub.

Running his hands up her body he lavished attention upon her breasts as they lightly bounced against his chest. Swirling his tongue over her tender peaks he reveled in the sounds she was making. How he’d missed squeezing each torrid sound from her splendid lips. Pinching one between his finger and thumb he nipped at her neck, “I love you, so much,” he breathed against the edge of her ear, running his face across her collarbone, laying open mouth kisses as he went.

She panted as she picked up her rocking speed, “I won’t last…” she let out a long growling grunt, “too sensitive.”

“Good,” he purred back. Pinning her tightly against his chest he thrust up into her. He wasn’t going to last much longer either and judging by the high whining she was nearly there too. Nipping her bottom lip into his mouth she melted. Desperate kisses fueled the last few thrusts as they both reached their peak at the same moment. Foreheads leaned together they gasped and shuttered. “Diana,” his voice was ragged as he looked into her eyes. It was the first time she had seemed content since before all this mess.

“Thank you,” she smiled kissing his nose. “Perhaps we can lay down for a time?” her voice was soft, innocent as she folded into his embrace.

“Everything can wait. You are all that matters to me,” lifting them from the bath he wrapped them in the oversized towel she had. Her breath was steady against his chest and he felt light as a feather as he walked them to their room. Laying her in bed he snuggled up behind her, “anything for you.”


	10. Urgent Message

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1st post for Family man Cullen day. There is something very important for Cullen to hear. Some would say it was Urgent.

He had received the message to come to her quarters immediately, and nearly shot out of his desk. Racing over the battlements and pushing through the rotunda he stopped for no one as he hurried to her quarters. Forgetting to knock he thrust the doors open, taking two steps at a time he pushed on until he was in the room, “Kiera?” his flushed face was tensed with concern as he rounded the crest of the staircase and entered the room. 

“Come sit with me, I have something I need to tell you, vhenan,” she patted the bed softly, her palm making a subtle shift in the furs under her. 

“What is going on? Is everything alright?” he was confusedbas he softly took his place beside her.

Giggling she nodded, “well I do hope it is alright. We have been very busy as of late and I have not had as much time with you as I had hoped.”

Shaking his head, he reached up to hold her cheek in his palm, “my love, I too have missed our time together. I fear it has been nearly a month since we last had time for ourselves,” his cheeks warmed as he leaned in to steal a loving kiss.

“Mmmm,” she mumbled against his lips as she placed her hands upon his shoulders. Pushing him back she let out a chuckle, “that is why I called you here, now.”

Scrunching his face up in confusion he couldn’t grasp where this conversation was going, “do you wish for us to have some alone time?”

“Oh Cullen,” she sighed as she reached for his hand. “What are your thoughts on children? Have you thought of them?”

He half choked on his air, “children?! Why would I….” halting in his thoughts he looked down at their laced fingers, back up to her face then to her stomach, “are you…”

Nodding she nibbled at her bottom lip, “yes, you’re going to be a father.” Waiting in shear terror she scanned his face. It seemed to be frozen in eternity before his eyes lit up and he leapt from the bed. Pulling her up into his arms he danced her around the room, as if his feet were clouds. “Cullen!” she giggled at his boyish enthusiasm, “please put me down!’

Chuckling he placed her back upon the edge of the bed, “Maker, I never… this is amazing… I just can’t…” he was stumbling over all the words he wanted to say, needed to say. To thank her, to tell her he was both excited and scared for his life. But nothing was coming up but garbled gibberish.

“I know,” she smiled up at him, “I feel the same way too.” 


	11. Hush Little Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the birth of his daughter, Cullen enjoys a quiet moment.

Tip toeing over to the tiny cradle Blackwall had made them by the bed he peeked his head over top. Nipping his bottom lip, he tried desperately to be as quiet as he could muster. Inside the wooden bed lay a bundle of blankets, all coiled around his newborn daughter. Tight curls of raven hair, clung to her head as she slept. Her little body rising and falling with each breath. Her brows furrowed as she lay, tiny squawks breaking from her teeny lips. Reaching into the cradle he pulled her up to his face, rocking her safely in his arms he cooed, “my dearest, you are safe.” Places a soft kiss upon her head his heart erupted when she calmed under his soft words.

“She’s your little suck already,” Kiera sighed, exhausted, “she will need to feed soon. Enjoy your time.”

Chuckling he rocked the babe steadily as he lowered himself beside Kiera on the bed, mindful of her soreness, “she has your beautiful hair.”

Shaking her head with a wide smiled she wrapped her arms around him, “she has your curls. Looks at those beautiful coils.”

Letting a belly laugh wash over him he sighed, resting his forehead against Kiera’s, “thank you. You are amazing, look at what you have done. She is perfect.”

“Somniari,” she whispered, “what do you think? Niari for short?” 

“What does that mean?” Cullen pulled the little blanket back as his daughter reached to hold his finger.

“Dreamer,” Kiera smiled, “I believe it fits her. For she was only a dream for me once, one I never thought I would ever see.”

Cullen kissed the little fingers wrapped around his own, “Niari, I think it fits her. Our little dreamer.”


	12. Who Says You Can't Go Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A but of follow up to "A Farewell to Arms," and to "Tending the Hearth." Cullen playing a quiet game of chess with his sister Mia. Things aren't as easy as a few moves on a black and white board.

“Cullen Stanton Rutherford,” Mia’s hands clamped firmly onto her hips as she locked her focus on him, “are you sitting here telling me you haven’t married that poor woman properly yet!”  
“Mia, please you have to under….”  
“No, I don’t.” she sputtered sitting down on the chair next to him, “you have a ring, we have a chapel, what are you waiting for? If you don’t make her my sister-in-law proper, I’ll do it for you!”  
Chuckling he threw his hands up in defeat. He knew well enough not to push Mia, she was a fiery woman and one with no knowledge of the term ‘back down.’ Calling his own retreat, he nodded, “if she wants to we can. With her recovery, I haven’t given it much thought.”  
Flicking his king over upon the chess board, Mia grinned, “I have a plan. If you’ll let me, that is.”  
Shaking his head, he reset the board, “I can only assume this is not a true choice of mine is it?”  
“I am only looking out for you dear brother. You do remember how I had to track you down! Come, a quiet family wedding would be wonderful. We could hold it in the yard, something small and tasteful.” Sighing she smiled, “Bronson will be jealous, and Rosalie will be a weeping mess.”  
Walking with Mia to the door he let out a long sigh, “would it be too much to ask that I do this? Diana has been through a lot. She hasn’t returned any of the letters her parents send. To wed now, with her still fragile, none of her family about… it seems wrong.”  
Stopping him just shy of the doorway she gave him a squeezing hug, “Cullen, I love you. I’m glad beyond a doubt that you are happy. I can see it, we all can. You should speak to her, deal with whatever you need to. I am here for both of you. We, the family, can handle anything that comes our way.”  
Solas, could we handle Solas? He mused in his mind, rolling the story Diana told them all the night they disbanded the Inquisition. They were still working on leads, daily they would come in disguise to the clinic. How much longer before Mia caught on? Perhaps a wedding was a perfect deflection. “Of course. I shall personally send word to her parents and siblings. We can have the wedding here, within the next month or so. All depending on the travel from the Free Marches. Will that make you happy? You can whisk Diana away to all the lovely shops and select all the pieces you would like. Write a letter to Josephine Montilyet. I’m sure she’d send a carriage full of things for you two, to play with.”  
Mia nearly cried as she bounced, “oh Cullen! This will be wonderful I know it!” Giving him another squeezing hug she stayed embracing him for a time, “you’re home, safe and we have you back. How I’ve missed you so. We can be a family again, the way it should have been. No more nightmares.”  
Choking down the thoughts of the veil, Solas and what may come he put on his best act, “it’s good to be home. Thank you, Mia.” Allowing her to hold him as long as she liked he struggled to push down the terrible thoughts. What if he lost them? He couldn’t! Squeezing her back, he genuinely meant those words. It was good to be home. After all that had happened, he was scared he could never come back. Thankfully, he did.


	13. Don't Rock the Boat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First post for Cullen - Friends day. I went with his bonding moment with Cassandra. How it would have played out in my mind, anyways. Hope you enjoy!

He couldn’t remember the journey to Kirkwall from Fereldan. It seemed as if it was a lifetime ago and in many ways, it was. Feeling the boat lift and wobble on the choppy sea he groaned. Sea illness. Holding onto the railing of the ship he felt for sure he would appear greener than elfroot by now. His stomach rolled and flopped, bounced and jiggled as the boat steadily teetered on the waves. “You do not agree with the sea, Commander,” Cassandra reached out and rubbed his back, “take in smaller breathes, it will help steady your stomach.”

Clearing his throat, he nodded, “thank you. I fear I am not meant for the sea.”

Chuckling she passed him a small vial, “drink this down. If you require more I can provide you with more.”

“Why?” he gagged and turned to dry heave over the side of the ship. Clearing his throat again he felt something cool touch his neck. Shivering he felt his stomach ease off. Pulling the cork, he hastily knocked back the liquid.

“Let’s just say I knew someone who also detested boats.” She pulled the damp clothe from the back of his neck, rigging it over the edge. “You fight for something difficult, not because it is a challenge, or because you seek glory. You take the hardened path because you feel it is right. You have incredible faith, and strength.”

Feeling his stomach settle more as the time passed he took the rag from her and wiped at his face and neck, “I deserve nothing less. If you knew the horrors I’ve seen you would understand why I do not wish to be part of this any longer. It is my penance, my chance to atone.” Sighing he looked into her eyes, “this someone, were they close to you?”

Looking out over the water, Cassandra’s gaze remained unchanged, “yes, one could say like a brother.” Looking over at Cullen she laughed, “we have travelled together now for some time. May I speak to you, personally?”

Chuckling Cullen gripped at his stomach, “please, just don’t make me laugh. I fear I won’t be able to hold it down.”

Rubbing his back again she let out a soft chuckle, “we have travelled together since Kirkwall. Shared meals, drink and even quarters. I have heard your nightmares, you have spoken in honestly with me. Would it be wrong to say I feel a bond between us? A friendship?”

Letting a puff of air slowly from his lungs he nodded, “I would say you have been a kind and generous companion. Honest, fair and discreet. I would value your friendship.”

Relaxing her posture she breathed a sigh of relief, “thank the Maker. I didn’t want Varric making up another one of his tales involving the Seeker and the ex-templar.” Both broke into a fit of laughter until Cullen began coughing, and dry heaving again. “You should come down below. Staring at the sea won’t help and it may be best to sleep as much of this journey as you can.”

“I doubt I can sleep with all this rocking. Let alone…” he rubbed at his neck, “I dislike tight spaces.”

“Come,” she tugged his arm, leading him down into the ship, towards their shared quarters, “I will read to you. You can focus on that while you get some rest.”

“I… uh… alright.” He stuttered as she hauled him below deck. 


	14. Penance and Atonement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Blackwall's identity is revealed things became tense between everyone and him at Skyhold. Cullen takes it upon himself to make up his own mind on him. How they're friendship mended after a tough reality.

Cullen lazily exchanged warm up parries, thrusts and jousts with Blackwall in the training yard as the midday sun crested high above them. Feeling his stiff body begin to limber up he said, “ready to get to the actual training, Thom?” Smirking wide he carefully removed his mantle and hung it off the sword rack.

“Anytime you’re ready Rutherford,” Blackwall chuckled. 

It had been several weeks since the late-night extractions, the replaced man in his stead. Since she had given him a pardon, her only condition; Atonement. For days on end, people spat when they saw him. Walked the other way, avoided him completely. Bull was the first to warm back up to him and Cullen the second. 

“Seriously? You want to have drinks with me? Me?” Blackwall half croaked out when Cullen stood before him at the open gates of the barn.

“Yes, now, if you can spare the time,” his arms were folded tightly against his chest as he remained stoic. 

In near perfect silence, the two walked to the tavern. People giving a wide berth to the two men. Not a word was exchanged as they entered the tavern and Cullen signaled Cabot. Plodding off upstairs he picked a table in the back corner, quiet and dimly lit. Setting himself down he waited for Blackwall to take his seat before him. Leaning in he spoke only loud enough for Blackwall to hear, “why? I need to know, I need to hear it from you. Why did you come clean after all this time?”

Blackwall sighed as he hung his head, “the Inquisitor. Her kindness, her honor and honesty. After all she’s seen, been through, done, how could I not? Mornay would have died if I hadn’t spoken up. How many of those men did I kill by not saying a word? I couldn’t let another man die because of me.”

Chewing on the leather glove over his thumb Cullen stewed about it. As he thought the drinks arrived, “drink,” he nodded as he grabbed his own stein. Blackwall, Thom made a terrible choice. Once that lead to the death of an entire family. Yet, Cullen couldn’t truly hate him. Had it been a templar order, the family mages, would he have said no? Ten years ago, he would have relished in it. But both men were different now. Fighting for a cause, for an ideal, for a chance to atone. “I see.” He uttered as he drank down a healthy gulp of mead.

“Why do you want to know? What difference does it make?” Blackwall seemed defeated and sorrowful as he swallowed down his ale.

“We all pay our penance,” Cullen sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose, the old pains flaring up. “You aren’t the man you were then, and I needed to be sure of it. Hear it for myself, see you say it for myself.”

Placing the empty mug on the table, Blackwall began refilling it from the bottle, “that’s what she told me. I was a better man than the one who made the orders that day. I don’t know if I believe her.”

“She’s said similar to me, and I believe her,” Cullen let a half smile paint he corner of his lip before he downed the last of his drink. 

“You? Chantry choir boy? You don’t seem like the type.” Blackwall’s quirked his eyebrow at him as he topped Cullen’s drink off.

“I… “sighing he nodded “I have enough blood on my hands to know, I have no right to judge you based on your past. I see the effort you’ve put in here, and now. Training the troops when you can, aiding in the Inquisitor’s journeys, your speech that saved many at Adamant. A man that only cared for him own needs would never do such things. You are a different man, and I wanted to say, while I believe what you did was deplorable. How you tricked your men, killed the whole family and fled was and is evil. You have lived with that, turned it into something positive. When she found you, you were saving villagers from bandits. That is not the work of a cold killer.” Taking another drink, he nodded, “I can forgive, and I want to move forward.” 

Letting out a hearty laugh Blackwall clinked his stein off Cullen’s, “then we drink to starting over. To a new friendship. Based on honesty, and loyalty.”

“To penance and atonement!” Cullen finished as they both downed their drinks. 


	15. Unlikely Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moment Cullen stopped seeing Varric as an annoyance and truly realized he was something more; a friend.

Scrambling to put his clothes back on Cullen cursed himself, all while the guards patrolling the battlements howled in laughter. Why had he thought he could challenge Josephine in Wicked Grace? The game was built for people like her. “Fool,” he spat at himself as he dug about his chest for something clean. Hearing the latch to his tower door open he peered over the edge, “Maker’s breath who’s calling at this hour?”

“Curly,” Varric’s voice bounced off the walls, followed by the sound of metal clanging together. “Hey, I brought your armor back. Ruffles say you need to see her for the other stuff but I managed to get your gear.”

Sliding down the ladder, a fresh change of clothes -minus boots- he paced over to him, “how did I ever let you convince me to play that game?” Shaking his head as Varric laughed he rifled through the armor pieces.

“Come on Curly, admit it! You enjoyed yourself tonight. You even told a couple stories yourself.” Crossing his arms, he leaned against the sturdy frame of the desk, “even got to make oogly eyes at the Inquisitor. Seeing your streak of shame may have scored you some valuable relationship points.”

“I did not!” Cullen pouted as he did a second count of all the pieces. Every last one was sitting perfectly upon his desk, “I can still hear the laughing.”

“I suppose you don’t want to hear that Buttercup was laying half sloshed under the table either,” Varric burst into laughter as Cullen’s face ghosted white. “Don’t worry Curly, she won’t remember a thing come morning.”

Running his hand over his face Cullen couldn’t help but feel the laughter bubble up in his chest. It truly was a silly night. Each telling tales, drinking, cards and even his shameful loss of his clothes did make for an entertaining evening. Letting the humor strike him he chuckled along with Varric, “alright dwarf, suppose I did enjoy myself. Don’t expect me to play with Josephine for some time. I have some dignity left.”

Standing up straight Varric headed for the door, “oh I doubt that. Dorian gave you a standing ovation and Bull is having the Chargers come up with a good drinking song devoted to your ‘magnificent behind,’ I think he said.”

Groaning loudly Cullen hung his head. Letting one final chuckle roll his shoulder he looked over to Varric, “thank you. Perhaps I do walk around with an entirely too serious look on my face.”

Nodding with a wide grin on his impish face Varric gripped the handle of the door in his hand, “that’s the spirit Curly! Come play another hand of Wicked Grace, no Ruffles tomorrow night. Need to nurse your face back to health.”

Acknowledging his words Cullen smirked, “I’ll see what I can do.”

Opening the door Varric gave one last nod before parting, closing the door behind. Cullen looked down at the laid-out pieces of armor, “thanks friend.”


	16. Thanksgiving part 1 of 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final piece of original work for Cullen Appreciation Week. This is for Modern Au/Crossover day. It's a 3 part mini. A smutty modern day Thanksgiving (why because it's getting cooler here and leaves are turning, so ya Thankgiving). First piece is slightly blushable, next pieces will be smut, and then last piece INTENSE SMUT! Enjoy :)

“Do I really have to wear this?” he tugged at the collar of his new sweater, feeling as if the whole thing was set to swallow him whole and choke the rest of him to death.

“Maker Cullen, it’s just a damn sweater. Come on, I’ll personally remove it when everyone leaves,” Diana purred as she trailed her finger tips over his pecks.

Smirking he ignored the collar to wrap his arms around her waste, “careful, you’ve been neglecting me as of late.”

“Neglect is such a harsh word,” she pretended faint at then utterance. 

Catching her head in his hand he hauled her up to just a breath away from his lips, “yes, all that time writing your articles and I haven’t had a moment with you alone since you told me your parents and my siblings were coming for dinner. Something, you forgot to mention to me till this morning.”

Regaining herself she placed her hands on his shoulders, “now, now, we all know how good you are at contacting your family.” Watching him scowl she pinched his cheek, “see, there it is. All the modern tech out there and I swear you just ignore them out of spite.”

“Its not spite,” he grunted letting her go. 

Sighing and rolling her eyes she gripped her hips firmly, “its just dinner. Then they’re all going home. Can you please, for the love of the Maker, just smile? For your health, Varric would say.”

A devilish grin crossed his lips as he looked her over, “perhaps you offer me something to keep me well behaved?” Closing the distance between them he slid his hand up her thigh, dipping it just under the hem of her tight mini shirt.

Purring she kissed his cheek, “say I offer. Will that keep you smiling?” Running the tips of her fingers over the slowly hardening mass in the front of his jeans she grinned, “but can you control yourself till then? Seeing I’ve neglected your so terribly,” she pouted out the last few words, watching as his breath came in staccato. 

“Since you enjoy your games, Diana,” he grinned pressing his lips against her neck, “we make this a game. First to give in loses. We can decide the penalty later.”

Pushing him back she had a grin painted on her face threatening to engulf her ears, “oh Maker. Thanksgiving is coming early for me this year.” 


	17. Thanksgiving part 2 of 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

Pulling the sweater over his head he tossed it into the depths of the closet. Content to be rid of it he picked something more to his taste. A simple chocolate brown plaid shirt. Sticking with the ‘Thanksgiving’ theme they had discussed he pulled an umber t-shirt over before pulling on the long sleeve plaid shirt. “How will this game work?” he yelled to her as he finished fastening the buttons. 

“You’ll see,” she purred from their bathroom suite. 

He knew well enough by that salacious purr that she had something interesting up her sleeve. Grinning he stepped over the sleeping mabari at the end of the bed, “don’t get into trouble today Soldier, this is important to Diana.” Soldier lazy peeked up from this comfy resting spot, giving a soft-huff, he returned to his post-lunch nap. Peering around the corner he caught a glimpse of her lean, tones calves. Wanting to get a better look he crept further. Her foot was perched high upon the sink as she tugged on a pair of nearly translucent stockings. Unrolling the material up her bronzed thighs he watched her hands glide up to under the short skirt. “I see you there Cullen,” she purred, her hands just dipping under her skirt for a brief moment.

“Mhmm,” he grinned coming to lean in the doorway, “and that was for me?”

Giggling she grinned wide, “oh I have so much more planned for you tonight.” Reaching on the counter top she picked up a small object. “This is yours for the evening. Before I give it to you, it has a couple rules,” she grinned watching his eyes light up in curiosity. “Ever heard of vibrating panties?”

Cullen near slipped down the wall as he looked at the small gadget, “vibrating what?”

Taking her foot off the sink she swayed her hips as she closed the distance between them. “May I?” she purred touching his hand.

“Uh… alright,” his neck felt heated as she slowly drew his hand across her thigh, then between her legs. Slowly sliding his hand up until he skimmed the outside of her panties. His heart was beating heavily in his ears. Maker how was he going to survive the night if this was only her warm up game? His fingers tips graced something solid and he quirked his eyebrow, “Diana, what is…” before he could answer she pushed a button upon the controller. His finger tips hummed with a steady pulse, and he groaned as he watched her sigh, mouth open. “Oh…” he barely managed to get out as she clicked the button again and it stopped. Reaching immediately for the controller, she jumped back from him.

“Uh uh,” she waved a finger as she licked her lips, “rules my love, I know you live for strict, ridged rules.” Glancing down his body she could see the tenting of his black slacks, “you may want to switch to jeans,” she purred as he blushed brightly. 

“Yes,” he stuttered out as he returned to the bedroom to change, “now about these rules.” Unzipping his pants, he shuddered trying to get the image out of mind and listen to her ‘rule.’

“You can’t just get me off a million times or I’ll be too sore for your lavishing attentions,” she purred entering the room. “Simply, if I get you, you can get me. But, you can’t turn the unit on for longer than a three count. It’s set to the lowest setting, and I will allow a bump up in the power if you are feeling too,” she groaned watching him bend over to pull on his jeans. Tight, firm muscles enchanting her, “much. First to finish loses. We can discuss punishment later.”

Carefully zipping his jeans shut he took the remote from her outstretched hand, “this may just be the best Thanksgiving ever.”


	18. Thanksgiving part 3 of 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Very very NSFW

Guests arrived on time, as both had expected and after their discussion in the bedroom, they had been to busy tending to finite details to tantalize each other further. Cullen found himself thumbing the small gadget in his pocket. He had lost all trepidation of seeing her family, and his in the same room. The last time they had all gathered was for the wedding, nearly a year ago. Diana was right, it was past due they spent a holiday with family. Since Christmas was already split between the different households this was their only hope to catch them all together. 

Hearing the doorbell chime he drew in a steadying breath before opening the door. Mia and her husband stood in the doorway, a bottle of wine in her hands, “brother!” she smiled widely and wrapped her arms tightly around him. It was good to hug Mia again. While he had neglected to keep up their correspondence he did truly miss her. “It has been too long Mia, how are things?” Leaning back Mia shook her head and gave Cullen a firm swat in the shoulder, “if you’d write more, you’d know you lummox.” Chuckling they all walked into the room. 

p>Friendly chatter continued as more people came, and Diana began the process of finishing the overstuffed turkey. “Go help Diana,” Mia pushed him towards the kitchen doors. Walking it he nearly groaned loudly as she bent down to draw open the oven door. He caught her look over her shoulder as she gave her rear a wiggle. “Di,’ he purred. Waiting for her to safely baste and return the bird he grinned, “tease,” pushing the small button in his pocket he watched her attempt to maintain a straight face. Her chest and cheeks flushed as he counted. “Three,” he clicked the button again.

Breathing heavily, she nipped her lip, “and I was worried you wouldn’t do it. I was wrong,” running her finger tip down his arm she sighed, “I can’t wait to get you out of these clothes.”

Smirking he patted his pocket, “careful, you may earn another three count. You, naughty…”

“Is everything alright in there? Does Diana need a hand with anything?” Mia’s voice entered the kitchen.

“We’re fine,” they both turned at the same time, letting out a soft chuckle. Smirking wide Cullen purred, “you know this isn’t going to work. You’re going to lose.” Slowly dipping his finger tips into the lace collar of her cocktail dress he grinned, “you can’t resist me.”

“Oh, going with the Commander angle. I like it,” she wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing herself against him in the tight galley kitchen, “but I always win, you know I do.”

“How’s the turkey looking Cully?” Bronson’s voice fluttered into the room.

“About another 10 minutes and we can pull it out,” Diana yelled back, dipping her fingers into the waist band of his pants, “just starting the gravy.” Pulling at the button on the front of his pants she lowered herself down.

“We… this wasn’t part of the…” stifling a groan he watched as she pulled him free from his pants. Not wasting a second she had him fully in her mouth, tongue swirling as she sucked and hummed when he reached the back of her throat. Trying to maintain his focus he was losing himself to the sensation. “Maker…. Diana….” He couldn’t help himself. Barely able to think he fumbled for his pocket. “Two…. Uhh…” he tried to stop himself, as he flicked the button on the controller. 

“Mhmm,” she hummed as the gadget flickered to life. His hope of it slowing her progress backfired as she redoubled her efforts. Bracing his back against the wall he was losing himself to the near blinding pleasure she was drawing from him. 

Hearing a knock on the kitchen door both parties quickly righted themselves, Cullen pressing the button on the remote. “Diana, did you need the table set?” Mia’s voice came from behind the door.

“I… uh… there is silverware in the…. Uh… serving… hutch thing, on the wall,” her face was bright red as she tried to catch her breath. “Along with the good china.”

“I see it,” Bronson yelled back.

Cullen chuckled, even as he felt a tingling, numbness cup his nether region. Adjusting his pants, he tucked his t-shirt back in and shook his head, “close, well played Diana.” She reached out and snagged his arm, “you’re sitting beside me at dinner, and dessert.” Her eyes where dark with lust and he fought her pull with every inch of his will power. Only able to give a wordless nod, he strolled out of the kitchen. 

Mia and Bronson were busily setting the table while Diana’s mother opened a couple bottles of wine. Sitting down he adjusted himself again under the table, thankful for Diana’s suggestion to switch into jeans. Striking up a conversation with Diana’s father the time passed quickly. Mia rushed off to the kitchen, scowling at Cullen as she went about helping Diana finish the meal. Oh, if Mia only knew, he mused to himself, there wouldn’t be a dinner if he went into that kitchen. 

With the feast coming out he took his seat at the head of the table. Picking up the carving knife he began slicing off sections of turkey. Diana loaded up plates with turkey, mashed potatoes, vegetables and gravy. Once everyone was served they held hands and offered a quick prayer to the Maker for another Thanksgiving, and being able to come together. Cullen just caught Diana hold back a giggle at the words. 

As they ate, conversation flowed about work, meetings, children and finally when were Cullen and Diana going to start their own little family. Cullen went to answer when he felt her finger tips grace his waist band, “we are enjoying our first year together, we are in no rush,” he took a sip from his wine glass as her deft fingers undid the top button on his pants. 

“Still, you must admit, you aren’t getting any younger. It will take some time, it doesn’t just happen over night,” Diana’s mother chimed in as she poured herself a third glass of wine, her cheeks a bright rosy colour.

“I’m sure we’ll work at it hard,” Diana chuckled merrily as her finger tips circled his tip. 

“Very hard,” Cullen half groaned, his cheeks blistering hot. “I mean, I’m not concerned about getting there.” He slapped his forehead, “Maker’s breath.”

Mia rolled her eyes, “Cullen, seriously this could be an issue. Have you been to the clinic? You aren’t a young man anymore.”

Diana was stroking him, slowly as he tried to focus, “clinic? I’m thirty-two, not dead.” His words came out half panting as he leaned back in his chair. Reaching into his pocket he found the remote. Fumbling with the side of it, he turned the intensity up one notch before turning it on.

“OH!” Diana let out a surprised sound as the gadget began again. “I mean… we’ll have a baby when we…” steadying herself she licked her lips, “ready.”

Cullen felt her hand release from him. Pushing the button again he grinned, “only when we’re ready.”

“Dessert?” Rosalie asked her face tinted bright pink.

“Wonderful idea,” Diana half stumbled as she rose from the table. 

Cullen chuckled as he fixed his pants under the table. “Yes, dessert sounds perfect right now.”

Warm fresh apple pie and pumpkin pies came out of the kitchen. Vanilla ice cream and whipped topping placed in the center, “who wants what?” Bronson smiled as he cut the pie into sections.

Cullen took a moment to breath. The ache in his core was near blinding now and all he wanted was for these people to get out of his house so he could rip that damn dress off her. “I will have a slice of pumpkin pie, with whipped topping please Bronson,” he tried to sound content as peoplenwere being served. Picking at the slice before him, people’s conversations were wearing down. Everyone sated from the meal and sweet dessert.

“You make a wonderful apple pie, Diana! I must have the recipe!” Mia sighed as she scooped up the last bite.

“I will email it to you in the morning,” Diana looked over to see Cullen’s elbow resting upon the table as he pushed his dessert around, “I think it’ll be a long, long night.”

“Hmm?” Cullen lazily looked over to see Diana with a dollop of cream upon her finger. Tantalizingly slow she popped her finger in her mouth, hollowing her cheeks she pulled it back out. Clearing his throat, he blinked a few times, “yes, long night. So much to do, cleaning up and all.”

Diana’s father chuckled, “by the look on your face boy the only thing you have set to do this evening is my daughter.”

The room fell silence, except for Diana, and her parents howls of laughter. “Yes… well,” Cullen’s face turned bright red, “I would wish to preserve some of the dinner first.”

Eagerly the guest cleaned their plates. Mia aiding in tidying the stack of dishes. “Thank the Maker for the dishwasher,” Diana chuckled as they loaded the last plate inside, “best investment so far.” 

People began collecting coats and pulling on shoes as Diana and Cullen gave hugs and sweet pecks on cheeks. As the last person left, Cullen braced himself against the door. Reaching back, he turned the dead bolt lock. Diana was half bent over the table, scrubbing down the last globs of gravy. Licking his lips, he pulled the controller out of his pocket. Setting it back up a level he flicked it on and tossed it over towards the couch, “you are mine,” he growled as he turned the music up that had been playing just barely audible throughout the dinner. 

He watched her twitch and drop the clothe upon the table as she turned to face him. “Unfair,” she groaned leaning her elbows upon the table. 

“Not even slightly,” he closed the distance between them. Scooping her up in his arms he tugged the zip at the front of her dress all the way down. Ripping the dress off her, he nipped at the bare skin around her collar bone. Her fingers fumbled as she tugged at the button of his jeans. Unclipping her bra, he sent that sailing across the living room. 

“Cullen,” her voice was breathy as she unbuttoned his shirt and ripped it from him, “bedroom… uh…” she moaned loudly, uttering several curses as he lifted her up and carried her towards the back of the house. 

“I win,” he smirked as he pressed her up against the wall just before their bedroom. Running his hand up her leg he was shocked to find her panties where crotch less. “What…”

“Gusset, they’re called gusset…” she sighed the mini vibrator still humming away. 

“I am loving gusset,” he kissed her, tongues dancing as he plied his fingers through her slick mound into her heated core. Opening her mouth wide, she was moaning as he held her tightly. She had to be close, lavishing his tongue against her breasts he grinned when her whines and sighs grew louder and more frequently, “give in to me,” he growled as he captured her taut nipple in his mouth.

“No…” she tried to fight him off, tried to reach for him but she was powerless against him and it wasn’t much longer before she was crying out. 

“Good girl,” he purred kicking his pants off. Tugging his boxers down with his wet hand he grinned, “to bed?” Wiggling out of his boxers he pulled her down the wall towards his pulsing cock. 

“Take…uh… off the…” screaming out she tried in vain to pull off the panties, the vibrator still humming away.

Grinning he debated it for a moment, he slowly tugging them down. Carrying her limp body to the bedroom, he knelt with her still in his hands. Hovering her over himself, “I win,” he breathed as he slowly and steadily lowered her onto his tip. She shuttered and began panting heavily as he filled her, inch by inch. “Yes,” he groaned as her heat swelled and pulsed around him. Being brought to the edge so many times tonight, teased and tortured he knew he wasn’t going to last long. The sheer bliss of seating himself inside of her nearly toppled him. Drawing in a lung full of air he reveled in her body. 

“Please Cullen,” she sighed throwing her arms up over her head and falling back upon the bed, “fuck me like you wanted to all night.” 

Tugging his shirt over his head he grinned. Leaning down he began rutting into her, each flex of his hips made her moan as it drew him closer to his release. Lifting her head up he locked his lips to hers, tongues and lips working in a feverish need as he pumped into her depths. Drawing his knees up higher his pace became erratic as the pressure building up inside of him began to peak in white, hot, pin pricks. Gasping against her lips he shuddered as his climax overwhelmed him. “Uh…uh…. Fuck…” he gasped as he thrust a few more times, wanting to draw out the intense feeling surrounding him. 

Diana sighed and pushed a few of the matted hairs from his face, “mmm perhaps we should do that more often. I haven’t felt you come like that, ever.” Grinning she kissed his lips.

“I…ughn…” he shuddered as he slipped from her, still leaking as his eyes fluttered. “Sensitive…” 

Diana hauled him down beside herself as she casually toyed with his tip, carefully slipping over the surface, “mhmm good, I plan on seconds.” 


End file.
